The Scorned Luna-Chapter 22: Got There Before Me
"Where is she?" Damien muttered in panic as he spun around and rushed down the stairs.
His boots pounded against the marble as he ran through the halls, his heart slamming so hard against his chest it hurt. Rain was still pouring outside, but he didn’t care. He burst through the main doors and into the yard.
Cold water soaked his hair and clothes instantly, but he didn’t feel it.
His eyes went straight to the place where Sofia had been kneeling.
It was empty.
Only wet dirt.
His chest tightened painfully.
"Sofia!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the yard.
No answer.
His wolf snarled in fear.
"Guards!" Damien roared. "Guards, come here!"
Several guards rushed into the rain, their faces pale when they saw his expression.
"Where is she?" Damien demanded, his voice shaking with rage and panic. "She was kneeling here. Where is Sofia?"
The guards exchanged nervous looks.
One of them swallowed and stepped forward. "Alpha... she... she collapsed."
Damien’s heart dropped.
"What?" he snapped.
"She was shaking badly," the guard said quickly. "She couldn’t stay on her knees. She fell to the ground and collapsed."
Damien’s fists clenched.
"Where is she? Who took her?" he growled.
The guard hesitated.
Then he said softly, "Beta Mathew, Alpha. He carried her himself."
Something hot and sharp tore through Damien’s chest.
He turned slowly, rain dripping down his face.
"Where did he take her?" he demanded.
The guard pointed toward the infirmary wing.
Damien didn’t say another word.
He turned and stormed back toward the mansion, his entire body shaking—not from the rain... but from fear and jealousy.
Once again... Mathew had reached her before him.
The thought made his jaw tighten.
It wasn’t the first time.
Years ago, when Sofia had fallen ill, Damien hadn’t been there. He had been away on an errand for his father, and it had been Mathew who took care of her... who drove her home... who stayed with her.
Damien had noticed the way Mathew always looked at her.
He had never said anything. But he had always known Mathew liked Sofia.
Jealousy twisted Damien’s chest, his wolf snarling in possessiveness.
"She’s mine," he muttered under his breath. "She has always been mine."
He reached the infirmary wing.
Servants and healers froze when they saw him storm in, his clothes still soaked, his eyes burning. No one dared to stop him.
He ignored them all.
He closed his eyes for a second and breathed in.
There.
Her scent.
Faint. Fragile. Mixed with sickness and rain.
His heart lurched.
Damien followed it down the corridor, his steps fast and heavy, until he reached one of the open rooms.
Inside—
Sofia lay unconscious on the bed.
Her skin was pale, her lips dry, and her hair damp against the pillow. A healer was working quietly beside her, pressing herbs to her chest.
And seated right next to the bed... was Mathew.
He was holding Sofia’s hand gently, his face tight with worry.
Damien stopped in the doorway.
His eyes darkened.
"What the hell is going on here?" he snarled.
Matthew turned slowly. He had known Damien would come. Gently, he placed Sofia’s hand back on the bed and stood.
"She collapsed," Mathew said. "Her body gave out. I had to bring her here."
Damien’s eyes burned.
In one sharp movement, he crossed the room and grabbed Mathew by the collar, slamming him back against the wall. Their faces were inches apart.
"Who gave you permission to touch her?" Damien snarled. "Who told you to take her?"
Matthew didn’t fight back. But his eyes were hard.
"Damien, are you even listening to yourself?" he said. "She collapsed in the rain. I wasn’t going to leave her there to die."
Damien’s grip tightened.
"You think you get to play hero?" he growled. "You think you get to carry what belongs to me?"
Mathew shoved his hand away. "She’s not something you own," he snapped. "She’s a person."
Damien laughed darkly. "You sound brave for someone who keeps touching what’s mine."
Mathew stepped forward again, his voice rising.
"Are you even okay?" he demanded. "You know Sofia is allergic to rain. You know it nearly killed her the last time. And you still ordered her to kneel under it. What the hell is wrong with you?"
That did it.
Damien’s eyes flashed with fury.
"Don’t you dare talk to me about her," he roared. "You don’t get to pretend you care more than I do."
Matthew’s jaw tightened. "Care?" he shot back. "If this is how you ’care,’ then you’re killing her."
Damien turned sharply toward Sofia on the bed.
She lay there weak, unconscious, her chest rising shallowly.
Something painful twisted inside him.
But he forced it down.
"You think you know her?" Damien growled. "You think she’s innocent?"
Mathew looked at Sofia, then back at Damien. "I think she’s suffering," he said quietly. "And you’re the reason."
Damien’s fists clenched.
"You’ve always wanted her," he said, his voice cold and bitter. "Haven’t you?"
Matthew didn’t deny it.
"I care about her," he said. "And I won’t apologize for that."
Damien’s control snapped.
"She is mine, Mathew," he exploded, his voice shaking with rage. "Mine. Mine alone. You stay away from her. You know I don’t share what is mine. You know it."
Mathew stared at him, pain flashing across his face, but he said nothing.
Damien turned sharply toward the healer. "What is her condition?" he demanded.
The healer swallowed nervously. "S-She’s weak, Alpha. The rain triggered her sensitivity, but she will recover. We just need to let her rest until she wakes."
Damien didn’t answer.
He walked to the bed.
For a moment, he simply stood there, looking down at Sofia’s pale face, her damp lashes resting against her cheeks, her chest rising so faintly it scared him.
Then, without a word, he slipped one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees and lifted her.
Matthew took a step forward. "Damien—"
"Don’t," Damien warned, his voice low and full of rage.
He turned away with Sofia in his arms, holding her close as if the world might steal her if he didn’t. Then he walked out of the infirmary, ignoring the shocked stares of everyone.
